


Mine to Steal

by Raikishi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi
Summary: “Oh no. I know my way around. I was only curious about your conversation. You see …” he leans forward as if presenting a secret, “I’m here to woo the Archbishop.”“You?!"Claudeth day 2: school
Relationships: Implied Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hilda Goneril, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	Mine to Steal

Claude touches down on Garreg Mach in the dead of night, flying in under cover of starlight and taking childish pleasure out of startling the old guard who still struggles with his new title.

“Claude von Reigan!” his name spoken with a whipcrack of disapproval, in the same note and tone that caught him fleeing from the scene of many crimes as a student. The guard cuts himself off, eyes wide as saucers, apparently realizing he is no longer speaking to a bratty teen with too much free time and too many resources, “Ah - no, I mean … my Lord – er, Shah? N-nothing to report!”

He bows awkwardly, caught for a moment as if he could not decide whether or not he should.

“Oh, it’s 'my Lord' and 'Shah' now? Not ‘Claude von Reigan - you insufferable little brat’?” Claude teases and the man blanches beneath the torchlight. 

“I apologize for my hasty and unfair judgment. And my harsh words,” the guard says stiffly, shuffling in place, clearly uncomfortable, practically twitching as he gropes for a change in conversation, “I … the Archbishop has prepared a room for your stay. She hopes you will be comfortable.”

“Yeah?” Claude cranes his head, peering into the distance at Byleth’s room, deeply pleased to see her lights still on. He affects a pout, “And she isn’t here to greet me. Now how am I suppose to take that as an old friend?”

The guard grimaces, grip tightening on his lance, “There is trouble in old Empire territory as of late. Your visit aligns with his Majesty’s. Lady Byleth has been holding council for the last week now. I am sure she deeply regrets–“

“Hmm, every time I visit there is something going on in Fodlan,” Claude says with an exaggerated sigh. He touches a hand to his chin, stroking his beard slow as he lets a grin spread over his face, “I guess I should do my best to steal her away. Just like old times, hm?” 

“Please,” the guard squeaks out, the stiffness of his face giving way to old exasperation. As if he’d caught Claude testing the explosiveness of small loaded barrels near the latrines again. 

“No, no, I’m sure Teach would appreciate it,’ Claude grins, “Remember the Garland moon incident?”

“It sure took her mind off Gaspard,” the guard manages to eek an agreement though his expression remains firmly in disagreement. All his rote politeness goes strained as he looks at Claude before he finally utters a heavy sigh, “Claude –“

“Great! So we are in agreement,” Claude claps his hands together, throwing a quick one-sided hug around the man and making him yelp, “Look at us, comrade in arms! Who would have thought you used to pull poisons out of my pockets. Times sure have changed. Well, gotta go find a Teach. Do see that my wyvern gets a good meal in her. You think I was a pest, well – “

He wiggles his brows as he strides away, basking in the muffled oath the guard makes of his name, nostalgia keeping his spirits high as he walks through Garreg Mach. 

The buildings have been rebuilt, all new brick and fresh paint. He can barely make out the walls Edelgard had torn through in her surprise attack. The paths are freshly paved, cleaner and neater than they'd been in his days. The dorms are smaller now or maybe he’s only grown, and there are many more rooms than ever before, many of them permanent residences for orphans of war. Unlike before, there are students everywhere despite the time of night, milling about either fishing or playing games. A few stragglers by the dining halls, speaking in low cheerful voices. They're all overseen by more guards, former soldiers or mercenaries, some of whom Claude recognizes from his former army and some not.  


The banners under the classroom windows are unanimous, a singular flag of united Fodlan. The old Imperial banner hangs, alongside Faerghus and Leicester, on classroom walls, meant only to be a history lesson now.

He lingers for a long moment in old haunts, making idle comparisons to a time long past.  


“I’m just saying, if it’s anyone, it’d be the King,” a voice says and immediately Claude’s interest is piqued, sensing mischief as if it were another limb.

“Hmph, his Majesty doesn’t make her smile like Duke Fraldarius does. Have you seen the way they greet each other? Hi-yah!” the sound of a sword swinging, “It’s artful. They are perfectly matched in battle and the Archbishop smiles brighter than anything at his challenge.”

“When will you learn that love is not about swordplay and bloodshed?”

“Not to agree with my sister, but Lady Byleth –“ Claude holds back a snort at the title. She must love that, “‘Smiles brighter than anything’ when she’s returned from a hunt with Queen Petra. Doesn’t mean she’s pinning for the boar and deer she brings back on her shoulders.”

“Queen Petra is another acceptable choice. Good with a bow. And a sword. Well enough to match Lady Byleth on the training grounds. Of course, not as well as –“

“Cyrus, please, she doesn’t spend hours alone with Duke Fraldarius,” says the first voice, and Claude rounds the corner just in time to see a student touch a hand to her heart dreamily, “Just imagine it. Long nights bowed over maps and reports. Tied together by their work until one evening, they reach for the same cup and 'oh, your Majesty’ ~“

Claude holds back a bark of laughter, slapping a hand over his face as he realizes what they’re talking about. 

“Ew.”

“Hmph, a few too many Mittelfrank operas for you, my dear.”

The student’s expression sours as she glowers at her two friends, “Oh, what do you know?! You two understand nothing but swordplay and study –“

She catches sight of Claude and immediately stiffens, her hand dropping to her lance at the sight of a stranger. Definitely a member of the officer’s academy.

“May we help you?” she asks, imperious as a young Edelgard, “Are you lost?”

“Nope, just heard some gossip,” he says, leaning against the wall, waving his hand, “Do go on.”

The girl blushes but shakes her head at him, “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop? Your bearings speak of your nobility but your conduct says otherwise.”

Claude presses his lips together against a grin. The last time he’d been berated this way, he’d been standing by the dorms exactly where he is now, “Oh? And who are you to judge my nobility?”

The girl straightens, her arms folding, “Watch your tongue. You are speaking to Lauren Helene Gloucester.”

It takes everything in Claude to hold back the hysterical laughter , pinching his arms hard as he fixes the smile on his face. He should’ve known. The purple hair should’ve given her away if not the enormous rose pinned to her chest.

“Ah, my sincerest apologies,” he makes a show of bowing to her, and just like her father so many years ago, she screws up her face to glare at him, pulling away with an air of haughty disdain.

“Pardon my sister,” the girl beside her speaks, bowing deep, “Her manner of speech is clumsy but she means well.”

“Clumsy?! Liliana!”

Her sister ignores her, shrewd eyes turned on Claude, assessing as she looks him over, lingering on his headwrap. A smile lights her mouth, something shrewd and too knowing and far too much like Hilda for Claude to do anything but reflexively smile back, “May we assist you, sir?”

“Oh no. I know my way around. I was only curious about your conversation. You see …” he leans forward as if presenting a secret, “I’m here to woo the Archbishop.”

“You?!” Lauren looks aghast, her hand to her chest dramatically as she recoils.

_ "You and the Professor?!" Lorenz gapes at him and then corrects himself, turning his nose up, "A jest. A prank. Surely, Claude, you know she would not even glance in your direction." _

The boy with them - Cyrus - blinks at Claude, his hand to his chin, assessing, “I do not think you can best Duke Fraldarius. Or Queen Petra.”

Right on both counts. Claude remembers being soundly tossed from his wyvern by both of them, in the academy, and in real warfare. But he'd won once.  


_ "Oh, so close," he grins up at her on Gronder field, wiggling his brows at her two students caught in his trap. _

_ Both Felix and Petra are snared like game hens, struggling in their bonds, spitting oaths under their breath. Teach taps a training sword to his throat as she pulls off him and turns to assess her students.  _

_ She looks over his trap slowly, drifting over the trees and the marked dirt, and when she looks back at him, there is a firm note of approval in her eyes. Something deep running and so sharp, it verges on sly. The weight of all that attention turned on him at once, so deliciously intoxicating he nearly loses his smugness.  _

_ "Well done," she says and the words curl like a siren song, snaring him as he had her students.  _

“Maybe,” he says, holding a hand up to frame his face as he winks at them cheekily, “But I have them beat in terms of looks.”

Lauren and Cyrus give him a flat, unamused look.

Ouch. What a blow to his ego.

“Duke Fraldarius does not look like he might pick your pockets,” Cyrus says.

“Hey, what does that mean?”

“It means you look like a charlatan,” Lauren declares.

“My Lady, such cruel accusations.”

She turns her nose up at him, “Lady Byleth would run you through if you smile and wink at her like that. As she does with Duke Gautier.”

“He deserves it most of the time,” Cyrus says, “Did you know she flipped Duke Gautier from a horse once?”

“We’ve never heard his Majesty laugh so loud,” Liliana says. 

“Oh yes,” Lauren says eagerly, turning a smug look on Claude, “His Majesty. A choice between you and the Savior King, I daresay, it is an easy choice.”

“I’m certain I can seduce her away.”

He’d done it before after all.

_ "Come with me?" he asks her in  _ _Derdriu, whispering the words in her ear as the prince walks away to command his soldiers.  
_

_Byleth blinks at him slowly. Surprise. Then pleasure._

_She steps into his space, hand in his hair as she guides him to her mouth. She kisses as he'd dreamed, with utter and devastating command as if this were another battle for her to conquer. Exploring every part of him until he is left dizzy and panting._

_"Later," she says, a promise burned into his skin as she strokes his hair, "Come back to Fodlan when you can, Claude. I'll be waiting."_

Lauren utters something that is not words, her cheeks rosy with a blush as she sputters at him, “Why you utter cur!”

“You can certainly try,” Liliana says like a dare, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. 

“Liliana!”

She ignores her sister, pretending to think, “As a matter of fact, I believe she and his Majesty have just retired to her chambers. I daresay you better hurry.” 

“Liliana,” her sisters hisses again, thoroughly scandalized.

Liliana only drops an absolutely wicked smile on them all before flouncing away with her sister shouting on her heels.

“It’s okay,” Cyrus tells Claude, patting his chest, his voice solemn and grave, “You’ll find someone else. Maybe aim lower next time.”

* * *

“Fleeing from the guards again?” Byleth greets him in her chambers with no small amount of amusement. She’s clearing away the teacups but pauses when he enters, raising an eyebrow, “You look a little too pleased with yourself.”

He crosses the room with easy strides, drawing her into his arms, preening as her attention drifts over him. Her entire body turns into his touch as her gaze goes dark, lingering on his exposed chest and the line of his jaw before following with her mouth.

_Look like a charlatan, my ass._

“You do,” Byleth says.

Ah, he’d said that aloud.

She tilts her head at him, assessing, “Is that why you look so pleased with yourself? You didn’t con a student did you?”

“Of course not, you have charming students. A little bratty. And incapable of seeing me for the handsome genius that I am,” he says, winking, “But charming.”

“Handsome genius,” Byleth repeats dryly. 

“Thank you, dearest,” he says, hands dropping further down her back.

Byleth snorts as if in disagreement but she is amused and smiling so he will allow the slander against his person. 

“They were very involved with your love life. And mine,” he kisses her throat and neck, dipping lower to her shoulders as he shoves off her cloak. He drags his beard across the delicate skin of her neck, holding her close as she shivers, hiking up her dress. Gave me the idea I should steal you from the Lions again.”

“I think Dimitri’s getting tired of that joke," she huffs. 

“But I’m not.”

“And it’s all about your pleasure.”

“Oh yes,” he says, “It’s my right as your favorite student.”

“Dimitri’s shrunk now, has he?”

“Hey,” he says, walking her backward as his fingers work at the knots of her robe, “I seduced you away from the Blue Lions fair and square. You wept when we parted ways at Derdriu. Your beloved, golden prince. Your darling Almyran prince. Blown off to the east and though you followed your lord to Enbarr, your heart soared out to the Lock –“

She bites his bottom lip, her hand firm in his hair as she angles him against her mouth, swallowing away his words with a kiss thorough enough to leave him breathless. Her expression is smug when she pulls away and he groans as she shoves him into a wall, body thrumming as she presses up against him.

“I think you have it confused,” she growls against his mouth, her arms around his hips as she cages him in. Her expression like a predator as she tears his shirt down the middle with a fierce smirk, “Who else can draw you from Almyra to Fodlan? You are _mine_ to steal, von Reigan, not the other way round.”

**Author's Note:**

> pretty loose interpretation of the prompt lol but i just like the idea of claude getting reckt by students


End file.
